


the bookstore owner

by kintou



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kintou/pseuds/kintou
Summary: Jean never cared much for reading until he gets a crush on the biggest book nerd this earth knows, Marco Bodt. Desperate to talk to his crush, he changes his own life.





	1. jean - 2011

**JEAN|2011**

* * *

 

I hadn’t read a book in my entire life. Still, I didn't think I had much of a choice. If I wanted to talk to this boy his book was my only chance. He was in a different class and we had almost no mutual friends. 

I gripped my paper coffee cup tighter. ‘We belong together,’ the coffee cup said. On the back there was a small story about waste, and about how these coffee cups could be used multiple times. ‘We belong together,’ I stared at the words as my mind wandered to the boy reading on the other side of the cafetaria. 

The book was reason enough. 

Still my heart beat in my throat, and my stomach felt like sinking to my knees. Despite myself and my nervous behaviour, I stood up. I walked towards the other guy slowly. Even though there was almost no one in the cafeteria I felt like the entire school noticed how fucking awkward I was being. 

When I stopped next to his table, he didn’t notice. He kept staring at his book. ‘Eh- uhm-’ he looked up, fuck, he smiled, ‘I was wondering- could you- what book are you reading?’ 

He held up the book for me to read the title. I don’t even remember what it was, but he told me about it. ‘You fancy reading?’ he asked me.

‘I- No. Not yet. Not really. But- I want to.’ 

dHe grinned at me. Pushed one chair away from the table as an invitation for me to sit. I sat down on it. ‘What have you read?’ 

‘ _ How to kill a mockingbird _ ?’

‘For class?’

I nodded. ‘Yup- it’s uh- it’s that bad.’ It was. Even though I was using books as an excuse to talk to him. It really was that bad. Maybe it was even worse, because of that.

‘No! No if you want to learn, it’s not bad at all. At least you want to improve.’ 

He grinned at me happily. It made my teenage heart sink. I had it bad for him and every single one of his freckles. ‘I really do.’ I was a big fat liar, but it seemed worth it, you know?

‘That’s awesome.’ he stared at me for a few seconds, then he awkwardly pushed his hand my way. ‘I’m Marco.’ 

‘Oh- Eh- I’m Jean.’ 

Marco. Marco. Marco. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. While I was sitting there, drinking my cheap coffee, he got out pen and paper. ‘I’ll write some names down for you. Some good books.’ 

I blushed. Wondered if I could even read the books he’d write down for me. Maybe they were too hard, and he’d realise that I was a dumb kid with a short concentration span. 

While he wrote the names down he licked his lip. I watched the freckles around his lips.  Stared at him shamelessly. I knew none of the authors, nor books he had written. I wondered if I could get them at the local bookstore, or if I’d have to order them somewhere. 

He wrote a big exclamation mark behind one of the names. ‘This is my favourite,’ he explained. 

‘Thank you.’I stared at him again, then back at the cup inside of my hand.  _ We belong together.  _ ‘Eh, can I maybe get you some coffee-’ 

‘Oh-’ 

‘JEAN!-’ Marco was interrupted by a loud voice. Eren came walking our way. ‘Come on man, class is starting!’ 

Eren walked up to us. I could already imagine the endless teasing he was going to give me so I stood up quickly, grabbed my bag, and mumbled a nervous goodbye to Marco. 

‘Don’t forget the list.’ He told me. 

I thanked him and grabbed the list off the table. ‘See you later, Marco.’ 

‘Yeah, bye Jean.’

 

‘Jean!’ a few days later Marco yelled my name through the hallway. I looked over at him, my belly fluttered. 

‘Hey.’ I awkwardly mumbled. 

‘Uh- I thought that it was weird if you had to buy all kinds of books I already have , so I brought some for you. Is that alright with you?’

This guy was too good for is own good. It made my head light. ‘Of course.’ 

He grinned and took his backpack off his back. ‘I only took two. I don’t know if you read fast, but I thought this would be fine.’ 

‘I think I read very slow.’ 

‘That’s fine.’ He took the books from his backpack and handed them to me. ‘I’ve read them multiple times, so that’s why they look old.’ 

I could see that they had been used. That made them amazing to me. They were really his books. They were important to him, and he was trusting me enough to give them to me. 

‘Thank you so much.’ And I meant it. Even though I didn’t even fucking feel like reading (to be honest, I thought I hated reading). The fact he gave them to me made me feel special, and warm.  

‘It’s no big deal.’ 

 

As I have said before: I didn’t fucking feel like reading. I wanted to start gaming when I got home, or watch some show. But as soon as I got the books out of my backpack I thought of Marco, and hell, my crush was bigger than I had expected it to be. 

I picked up the books and laid down on my bed. 

If it meant having an excuse to talk to him, I’d read. 

Marco was beautiful. Bright eyes, loads of freckles, beautiful smile. To me, a boy just discovering he’s gay, this was the most amazing thing ever. 

So I started the book, laying on my bed, trying not to get distracted by my playstation standing meters away. But once I was reading, that was no issue anymore. My playstation was easily forgotten. I couldn’t even think of stopping. I read until it was nighttime. 

I didn’t even hear my mother walk upstairs, the way she always did when I was gaming until late at night. 

My door opened. ‘Jean, it’s time to go to be- are you reading?’

‘Yeah..’ 

‘Oh.. Alright. Eh- don’t forget to turn the lights off.’ 

‘Sure.’ 

And as soon as she was gone I kept on reading. I had almost forgotten Marco, or at least that he was the reason I wanted to read the book. I didn’t just want to be capable of talking to him about this book. I just wanted to talk about the book, because I wanted to talk about it. 

Still, I couldn’t help but want Marco to feel the same. 

I don’t know when I fell asleep. I know that I woke up with my face on the damn book. The pages folded, feeling guilty for making a mess out of Marco’s book. 

 

‘Marco, hey’ I sat down next to him in the cafeteria. He was sitting near his friends, but he was reading anyway. It seems like I wasn’t interrupting anything so I just said fuck it and sat down next to him, two cups of coffee in my hand in case he wanted any. 

‘Hey, Jean. How’s your day?’

‘Slept like shit, but that’s fine.’ 

He smiled. ‘What happened?’  

‘Read that fucking book of yours,’ I laughed, ‘had me awake until four.’ 

‘Oh my god. How are you even alive right now?’  He grinned brightly. That made it all worth it. 

‘I don’t even know.’  

He chuckled. ‘So I guess you liked it?’ 

‘Hell yeah.’  

He asked me questions about where I stopped reading, making sure he couldn’t spoil anything. Then he started asking me about certain situations, certain characters, about the main voice in the book. With some things I didn’t know what he was on about, still it felt nice to talk about the book. I told him about pages that made me excited, about pages that made me sad. He agreed on all of them, getting excited because someone understood him. 

‘I- I kind of fell asleep on the book though. I’m sorry.’  

He shook his head. ‘That’s fine. The book already looked like it was read a million times. It has it’s charm.’  

I chuckled. ‘Still. I’ll make it up to you.’  

He shook his head, but then stopped his movements. His face lit up in excitement. ‘Maybe- eh- I was going to the bookstore today, and if you want to come that would be pretty nice. Unless you have something to do, of course.’ 

‘No! Yes! Yeah, I’ll come. That sounds cool.’  I was afraid of making myself look like a fool by only picking up bad books, but still, I really wanted to go with him. It had me excited like he had asked me on a date.

I wished it was a date.

 

We headed to the bookstore after school. We walked, our stuff for school still in our backpacks. Marco said something about enjoying the cold weather. I told him that I didn’t understand that part of him. And I really didn’t understand that part of him yet, as crazy as it seems to me now. 

We walked close to each other, had a simple conversation. The bookstore was in a small, cozy street. The windows were high and in front of the windows were piles of books. It looked like an old, but neat bookstore. Marco seemed to start living when the old bell rang, and we walked through that door. 

‘I’ve never taken someone here.’  I didn’t know what to do with that information, but knowing it made me feel amazing. I noticed that Marco watched my reaction, walked slowly. I was overwhelmed by the amount of books, by the smell of books, by the friendly old people working- and hanging around in the bookstore.

The old man behind the counter yelled: ‘Hey, Marco, buddy.’ 

‘Hello, sir!’  

And they grinned at each other like they held secrets I’d never know. 

And I fell in love with this different, new Marco, all over again.  

Marco let me look around the shop while he went into the classics section. ‘How do you drink your coffee, kid?’  The old man behind the counter yelled. Surprised and overwhelmed, I managed to reply that I wanted a little bit of sugar. 

Marco was already holding a pile of books by the time that I finally got to look around the shop properly. He gave me a big grin, and sat down on some kind of reading chair. ‘I’m going to read the back of all these books,’  he said. 

‘Oh, alright.’ 

I took the coffee the shop owner had made for us with me and started looking around the shop. Marco yelled something along the lines of  ‘If you want to help me choose, you should just ask.’ and I remember nodded. I was nothing but overwhelmed. 

Eventually I got one book that inspired me to no extend. It was a beautiful version of Queer, by William Burroughs. I wanted it because the title was Queer. I didn’t know anything about William Burroughs back then, not about the beat generation. I didn’t even know this was a well known book. 

I sat down next to Marco. Marco glanced at me with excitement in his eyes. 

‘ I- I want this one.’  I held the book up to him. 

‘Queer.’  He mumbled, reading the title. Him saying that word made me nervous. I wanted to kiss him. ‘It’s written for Allen Ginsberg, you know him?’  I shook my head. ‘I’ll show you later on.’ 

I was just glad he didn’t ask any questions about it. I now know that he wanted to, but that he was as nervous about the subject as I was. 

For a while we sat next to each other. Marco started reading one of the books, I started the first chapter of William Burroughs book.  Once in a while we’d chat. He’d read nice sentences to me. The mood was sweet. There was some soft music playing, and I didn’t really recognize what it was. It was warm in the shop. It started raining outside. Both of us didn’t notice until we had to leave.

When we paid our books, Marco ran to get Howl by Allen Ginsberg from somewhere, and bought that one as well. When it was paid, he handed the book to me. 

‘It’s a present. Queer is written for the person who wrote this. I think.. I think you’ ll find it inspirational.’  

And I did. 

If you had told me weeks before than, I wouldn’t have believed you. But the poetry made my world wider, and it made me confident in my homosexuality like nothing else could have done. 

It was thanks to Marco. 

I keep that book next to my bed until this day. 

 

Now let’s get this over with. Marco and I chatted about books a few times after that. I remember having a really intense conversation about Queer with him. I remember him getting excited about some book, but forgetting the title. 

We got the shitty automat coffee and chatted after school almost every day, and I fell in love harder than I should have done.

But we were shy and young. Neither of us dared to speak of love, let stand homosexuality, so openly. Maybe we both taught: it will be fine. I know I did. I thought I could take my time. I thought that we would head to the bookstore a thousand times together, and that he would fall in love when he would. 

I didn’t realise he already had. 

And when the time came I realised there was no bigger lie than the one I had been telling myself. 

Marco dragged me into the locker room like he often did. Asked me how I was liking  _ The Book Thief _ , I said it was nice a wintery. Then he frowned. He never frowned when I said I liked a book. He would always grin, like I had made his world. 

‘What’s up? Do you hate that book?’  

‘No- No the book is fine.’  

‘Well, speak up then.’ 

‘I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but I didn’t really dare to do it. Didn’t think it would get important.’  

My heart sank to my toes. A tiny voice in my mind yelled that he was going to confess to me, or at least confess that he was gay.  

I was ready to kiss him. I was imagining how to do it. 

‘I’m going to move cities.’ 

And that’s when you realise you have waited too long. 

But also think that, what if you hadn’t waited, would it have made a difference? Probably not.

‘My parents have gotten a divorce, and I’m going to live with my dad’s family.’  

I bit my lip. I didn’t know what to do without him anymore. I would sign for throwing my playstation into the trash and reading books with him instead any day. 

‘Oh-’  

‘I should have told you sooner.’  

‘It’ s.. no.. it’s fine.’  

I felt like I was just staring at him, but Marco’s eyes became worried. ‘You look like you’re panicking.’  he told me. 

‘Ah- Is that what I look like?’  

‘Jean? I’m sorry.’  

‘No. It’s really none of my business. You haven’t known me that long, and we’re not really good friends.. so.. It doesn’t  matter.’ 

Marco blushed, looked down at his hands. ‘I guess you’re right. I’m making a big deal out of this.’  


	2. marco - 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco moves back into the city.

**MARCO|2019**

* * *

 

 

The shop had been sold. That was the worst thing. It had a new name. Nothing much had changed. Even with the rain falling down hard and loud, next to my umbrella, I could see the shop had kept the same atmosphere, just not the same owner. 

More than any place I had been since coming back, this place made me feel nostalgic. It made me go back to my teenage years. It made me think of high school, sitting alone in the break, just because I had wanted to read. 

I had missed a lot of things from this city. 

On some days I wished I had never gone away, but lord knows I didn’t have much of a choice. 

I closed my umbrella slowly. The storm was getting worse, and it would rip my damn umbrella apart if I’d stay outside any longer.

The first thing I noticed was that the bell had the same kind of sound as the old one. It wasn’t exactly the same, but hell, it was close enough. If that old bell had broke, they probably tried very hard to find one to sound like it. That made my heart light. I had always loved the sound. 

I took the entire shop in. There were more places for cards and small posters that artists had made, but apart from that it was basically the same. The reading chairs had changed, but they were standing at the same place. They were red instead of the blue ones that used to be there. A wooden table with a light was in the middle of the chairs. 

The cash register was empty. I heard someone’s voice in the other part of the shop, helping someone find a book. There was some soft jazz playing. 

I started looking through every part of the shop. I looked at all books, at all cards, walked through every small space the old fashioned shop had. Took quite a few books with me. It felt like it had been forever since I had walked here, I wasn’t going to hold back now. 

Eventually I found  _ The Book Thief _ . I stared at the renewed cover. Looking back at the book it wasn’t anything special. Not as special as it had become for me.

It was the book I had loaned to Jean, before I moved away. I never asked him to return it. I didn’t want anything more than for him to keep something that was mine. I wondered if he had kept it all these years. If he ever went on reading. 

Honestly; he wasn’t much of a reader in the first place.

I took  _ The Book Thief _ from the shelve and took it with me. With my hands full of books I walked towards the cash register. I wished I could get coffee and read in those old chairs like I used to. But now I didn’t dare to ask for it. I never asked before I moved. The new owner wouldn’t know me. No one recognized me, like they had when I used to come here every day. 

The old owner had seen me growing up. He had seen me get disney fairytales and classics soon after. 

But I was new to the city now. I wasn’t that boy everyone knew. 

I put my books on the counter and waited for the shop owner to come back. I saw him walk in fast. Holding a pile of paperwork, making sure he didn’t drop anything. Yelling: ‘Sorry, give me one sec.’ 

He didn’t look at me yet.

But I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. 

Jean. 

Jean. That was Jean, and he had grown up to be damn beautiful, and he hadn’t changed at the same time. He was still clumsy and rude and he still frowned like everything could go wrong. 

But he was here, in this shop, and that meant more than anything we could ever tell each other. More than every letter we could have sent after I moved. But especially, more than the last thing he had said to me before I left. 

That we weren’t good friends, that. 

‘Alright, sorry for the-’ he finally looked at me. He stopped talking because of it, his mouth hung open a little bit. 

I chuckled. 

‘Fuck- Marco?’

‘Hey.’ 

‘You surprised me.’ he went back to his normal, cocky self. 

‘I can say the same about you.’ 

‘What? I never moved away.’  

‘But you work here, in this shop. That surprised me.’ 

‘This is my shop.’ 

My heart sank to my stomach, fluttered around, for a place like this to be owned by a guy like this meant the world to me. It was the best thing I could have wished for. 

‘That’s amazing.’ 

‘I- I made a deal with the last owner’ He smiled shyly. I couldn’t get over how handsome he had become.  ‘But anyway, what are you doing here? You on a visit?’ 

‘No, I... I moved back.’

‘That’s awesome! When did you move?’ 

I blushed. ‘Yesterday. I- my bed is not even delivered yet. My mattress is laying on my floor right now.’ 

‘But you thought: first books and then furniture.’ 

‘I have always been like that.’ 

He smiled softly. ‘I know.’ Jean took the first book off my pile to scan it. ‘ _ The Book Thief  _ huh? You don’t have to buy it, I can just return it to you.’ 

‘You still have it?’ 

‘Of course.’ 

Our little world got interrupted when I noticed the line behind me. Two people were waiting patiently behind me. Jean looked like he hadn’t noticed either.  ‘Excuse me,’ I apologized. They said it was no problem. Still, I didn’t want to leave the shop. I wanted to stay here forever. 

‘Marco, would you care for coffee? I’ll help these customers and-’ 

‘Yes. Yeah sure.’ I took the books off the counter again and smiled at Jean. Holding the books tightly I walked towards the red chairs. My heart was beating loudly. I felt like I could wake up from this crazy dream any second. Behind me I heard Jean say: ‘Good afternoon, how can I help you?’ 

 

I had read fifty pages of my book when Jean came to sit next to me. 

‘I’m sorry for making you wait.’ He mumbled. 

I shook my head. ‘I was reading.’

‘I’m running the shop by myself today. It’s never too busy on Tuesdays.’

‘You’re amazing.’ 

He blushed. ‘You’re exaggerating.’  He put the coffees he was holding down on the table, and sat down when he had. ‘How are you doing, Marco? I haven’t seen you in years.’ 

‘I’m.. I’m getting there. I feel better now that I moved here. I didn’t have any friends in high school that I still want to hang out with, really, but this city is just amazing to me. It’s small and cozy, kind of like this shop.’ 

‘And you have me to hang out with now.’ he grinned. 

‘Yeah. That’s true.’ 

‘I was living with my boyfriend.. When we broke up I just- I didn’t feel like that city was my home anymore. I had no reason to stay there any more.’ 

‘Y-You had a boyfriend?’ 

‘Yes, Jean.’  I wondered what he’d say about that. 

‘Hope you’re alright after the breakup.’

I smiled. ‘Yes. We weren’t in love, not anymore at least. Things like that happen.’ 

‘I guess.’ 

‘And now I’m here, and I’m happier for it.’ 

He chuckled. ‘Me too.’ 

‘I’m so glad this is your place. I know you said that you didn’t care when I left but.. I still feel like you’re the only one to keep this much of my memories. My memories are this shop, and you’re the only one I ever brought here.’ 

‘I lied, you know, about not caring.’ 

I smiled shyly. ‘I kind of know. I mean- you- correct me if I’m wrong- but you liked me, didn’t you?’ 

‘I- Yeah. Yeah I did.’ Jean brought his cup to his lips and took a sip, avoiding my gaze. ‘That was also the reason I started reading.. I- I thought you were cool.’ 

‘Thank you.’ 

‘No, thank you, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.’ 

 

We talked until Jean had to start working again. He said I wasn’t allowed to pay for my books. When I realised that I wasn’t going to convince him, I told him I would cook a meal for him one of these days. He did agree on that one. He told me to call him. He didn’t give me his phone number. 

  
  


The next day I stared at all the boxes in my apartment. In every box there were wooden planks, screws, and what not more. I had lost the instructions on how to make the bed. I was tired from traveling, and eventually I decided to just do it; I’d call Jean. I needed a friend, more than I needed anything else in that moment. On top of that: I really wanted to sleep in a bed. 

I googled the shop, called right before closing time. 

The phone rang a few times before Jean picked up. ‘Jean speaking-’ 

‘Hey, this is Marco.’ 

‘Hey Marco, what’s up?’ 

‘I was wondering if I could take you up on that offer for a meal today?’ 

‘Oh, you want to eat together?’ 

‘Yeah.. I’ll cook for you.’ 

‘Śounds nice.’ 

‘But- eh-’ 

‘What’s wrong?’ 

I chuckled. ‘I need your help.’ 

‘You don’t want me to hide a body or anything, right?’

I laughed. ‘No! No! This is wayy worse. I wanted to ask you to..’ I let a dramatic silence fall. ‘Help me put my bed together. I can’t manage by myself.’ 

He laughed. ‘Ikea furniture is always worse than murder.’ 

‘Totally.’ 

He laughed wholeheartedly. I was glad to hear him like that; happy. ‘I’ll be there in an hour. What’s your address?’ 

I told him my address and thanked him. He hesitated to tell me goodbye. He mumbled some things about work, some things about looking forward to it. It struck me that Jean hadn’t changed. He was still awkward, still shy, but he could get what he wanted if he tried.

When Jean rang my bell it was raining outside. I looked out of my window first. He had no umbrella. I ran down the stairs of my apartment to open the door for him. 

‘Nice place.’ he mumbled, as a greeting. 

‘You’re wett.’ 

‘Thanks for noticing.’ He smirked. 

‘Come in, idiot.’ 

Jean came in quickly. He took off his shoes to walk up the stairs. I told him he didn’t have to but he didn’t want to feel responsible for mud on the stairs. ‘How many people live here?’ 

‘Oh, four floors, four apartments. I think some are shared by couples, though.’    

‘Sounds nice.’  

‘Where do you live?’  

‘Above the shop.’ 

I turned around before we had even gotten to the door. ‘For real?!’  he nodded, ‘That’s the dream man. I literally had dreams about living above that shop.’  

He chuckled and blushed. I could see that he was proud of where he had gotten, but that he had never found someone to understand it like I did. ‘You’re welcome to come live with me but.. I noticed that you just moved.’  

‘And I even have a bed now. Even if it’s not quite a bed yet.’ 

I opened the door to my apartment. 

He chuckled. ‘Well, at least you can come pretend you live above the bookstore now. Just come grab dinner, breakfast, take an unexpected shit on my toilet.’  

‘Thanks for the offer.’  Jean took off his wet coat and put his shoes next to the coat rack. His sweater was drenched too. ‘I’m going to get you another sweater and sweatpants.’  

‘Thanks.’  

In my bedroom I got out my favourite red sweater, some comfortable sweatpants, and after that some warm socks. The socks had a cheesy snowman on them, I had gotten them with christmas ones. Wore them every cold season since then. 

I prefered the socks with reindeer op them though. I pulled out my own socks and pulled the reindeer socks on. 

Never too soon for christmas socks. Not even in autumn. 

When I walked into the room Jean was already topless. I bit my lip, calmed my heart. ‘Here you go.’ I gave him all the clothes and turned away from him.

Shit.. he was.. attractive. His collarbones were striking, he was thin but not too much. His skin was really pale. I could feel my heart beat heavily in my chest. 

‘Did I make you uncomfortable?’ 

‘No I just- try to not to look when people undress. My old friends found it uncomfortable because I’m gay.’ 

‘Sounds like they were a bunch of assholes, and what, they were fine when the other guys watched?’ 

I blushed. ‘I guess.’ 

‘I smell bullshit.’ He walked up to me, completely dressed, looking at his feet. ‘These socks are ridiculous.’ 

‘I think they’re nice.’ 

I looked from my feet to his face. He was beaming. He looked so damn happy. 

‘You wanted to match socks with me that badly?’ 

‘Yeah, you got me. Matching my socks with yours has always been my dream.’ 

He glanced at my face, didn’t look away for some time. He made my chest feel warm. His smile did. The fact he looked so damn happy did. Mostly, the fact that we were together after all these years, in this city, did. 

I couldn’t have wished for anything better. 

And even though it was hard to believe, Jean looked like he felt the same. 

‘I thought it was your dream to live in my house?’ 

‘What can I say? I’m a dreamer.’ 

He laughed and tore his eyes away from me. ‘Let’s make that bed then, so you can dream well tonight.’ 

‘Yeah.’ 

We pushed my mattress out of the way and then got all of the planks and other stuff out of the boxes. Jean organized them, found out what to do first. He was getting really serious about it. Told me to hold things while he screwed the planks together. Somehow the whole thing was starting to look more and more like a bed. I really liked the way the bed looked. It was a simple, low bed from dark wood. Even though my apartment still looked empty, this really made me feel like it was going to become a home. 

Jean being here made it feel like a home. 

‘Did we get everything?’ Jean asked when the bed was standing on its place.

‘I see nothing laying around, so I think so.’ 

‘Alright.’ He walked up to my mattress. I helped him get it off the floor, to put it on top of my new bed. When that was done, I threw my blankets and pillows on top of the bed. 

‘It’s done!’ I yelled, stretching and letting myself fall down on the bed. 

Jean stood next to the bed and smiled at me. 

‘Come on, Jean’ I patted the spot on the bed next to me. 

Jean grinned and threw himself on the bed with a sign. ‘You sure make me work hard after a long day of work.’ 

I turned my head to look at him. His upper arms touched mine slightly. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

He smiled. ‘Don’t be, it was fun.’ 

‘And you get to relax while I cook.’ 

‘True. I honestly couldn’t ask for anything better after work. Don’t you feel bad.’ 

‘Me neither.’ 

‘Hm?’ 

‘I couldn’t have asked for anything better either, I mean. I’m just.. I’m just very thankful that I walked into you on my first day here. I was feeling pretty lonely today and to be able to just call you seems like a blessing. You’re exactly who I needed.’ 

Jean grinned. ‘Glad to return the favour.’ 

Jean’s eyes traveled over my face, from my chin to my ears, from my forehead to my mouth. I tried not to get distracted my it. 

‘What do you mean?’ I asked him. 

‘Well.. You were exactly what I needed all those years ago. Hell, without you I would probably still game all day.’ 

‘You don’t know that.’ 

‘I know that you made me better.’ 

I didn’t know what to answer him. He looked so serious. We’d been joking around all day and now he just looked like he wanted me to get what he felt. And I did- I guess- meeting him in high school had been like a blessing that fell from the sky and we- we had been so confused. We didn’t know how to properly communicate but we tried. We tried our best to stick together. 

‘Marco.’ 

‘Yeah?’ 

He stared at me. I felt heat rising to my face. ‘Is it alright if I kiss you?’ 

I bit my lip. I wanted to kiss him. I had since the second I saw him standing behind the counter of our bookstore. ‘For old times sake?’ 

‘No. Not really. Just for the sake of right now.’ 

‘Alright. Yeah you can.’ 

He put his fingers around my neck, pulled my face a little closer while he leaned in. He kissed me softly, simply brushed his lips against mine, first. He was checking how far he could go with a peck. When he had kissed me that soft, he opened his eyes for a second. His eyes were gleaming. 

I don’t know what was showing in my eyes. Probably everything I felt in that moment, because when Jean had looked into my eyes he pushed his lips back on mine right away. He pulled me against him, opened my mouth to deepen the kiss. I moved with him, held his hair tightly, pulled it softly while my thumb stroked his hairline. 

When he pulled away we stayed like this, laying on my bed, for a while. Sometimes Jean would come back for a kiss. 

After a while I just mumbled. ‘I don’t have a bookcase yet.’

‘Oh?’ 

‘Will you go buy one with me, this week? I have a lot of books.’ 

Jean grinned. ‘Will you let me kiss you again if I do?’ 

‘Uhu..’ I romantically put my hand to his cheek, caressed his ear, leaned in with the most sexy eyes I could manage, ‘I might even let you carry it up the stairs, if you want.’

He snorted. ‘Idiot.’

‘I’m going to cook for you.’ I stood up.

‘I’m going to take a nap.’ 

‘Sure.’

He sat up. ‘No, of course I won’t. Can I help?’ 

‘Nope.’ 

‘Want me to make you coffee?’ 

‘Fine, you can do that.’ 

  
  


‘Good afternoo- Oh, Marco, hey.’ 

‘Hey.’ I walked up to the counter, where Jean pulled me in and gave me a soft peck on my hairline. ‘I thought it would be good to come near closing time.’

‘Depends on what you came for.’ He chuckled. 

‘New books to fill my bookcase.’ 

‘And?’ 

‘And?’ 

‘C’mon..’ he whined. 

‘Alright, you got me, I came to live in that  _ bookstore-dreamhouse _ .’ 

Jean grinned. ‘And?’ 

‘And?’

‘Maybe for some, I don’t know, extremely handsome bookstore owner?’ 

‘You have one of those here?’ 

Jean laughed and pulled me in, kissed my cheek. ‘These cheeky jokes are getting you nowhere.’

‘Yet here you are, kissing me.’ 

‘Shit, you got me.’ 

‘I know.’ 

A customer walked in, smiling, Jean let go of me as quick as he could. I gave him a small wave as I started looking at the new books. The customer was an old lady. She giggled, ‘How lovely. Don’t mind me, sweethearts.’

‘No, no I have to get to work. How can I help you?’ Jean mumbled, blushing.

 

Jean closed the shop a while after the lady had paid for her books. I was sitting the one of the chairs, he talked towards me. I didn’t notice at first, until he put his hand on my lap. He took me with him upstairs. The stairs towards his apartment were wooden, and there were some photos on the wall. The majority of the paintings were of one elder woman, probably his mum. 

He brought me to his living room. There were bookcases on both sides of the wall. I wondered if that was really necessary, with all those books downstairs, but it still made me happy. 

There were not a lot of paintings and pictures on the walls. He had a lot of plants, some of which were almost dying, and a lot of papers, books, drawings, stuff like that. What I also noticed was that he didn’t have a television. There was a Macbook laying underneath the low table, but there was nothing more.

‘You like it?’ Jean said, finally walking up to me standing in the middle of his room. 

‘Beautiful.’ 

Jean took a piece of my shirt in his hand and pulled me closer. When I bumped against him he put his arms around me. ‘I’m tired.’ he mumbled. 

‘I know, you worked hard.’

‘I’m going to make you coffee. Give me one second.’ 

‘Alright.’ I put my hand on his back and stroked it as sweet as I could, hoping to warm him inside, to make him feel better about himself. 

‘Hmm.. one more second.’  He snuggled his nose against my neck, then he stretched and yawned. ‘Okay, coffee.’

He walked towards the kitchen and I followed behind him. He made two cups of coffee, got his filter coffee out, poured water on top of it carefully, hummed softly.

He made me feel at home. 

‘Let’s sit on the couch. I’m going to put on sweatpants, you want a pair?’ 

I did. So we got dressed in sweatpants, got our coffee, and sat down on the couch. We both put our feet on the couch, he stretched his legs, making his toes touch my hip, and I put my feet next to his knees. 

I sipped my coffee slowly, closed my eyes. I could feel his toes move against my skin. 

‘Marco, tell me more about what your life was like after you moved.’

‘It’s not that interesting.’ I opened my eyes. ‘If I’m really being honest, Jean, sitting here with you is more special than anything that happened in those years.’

‘But you were in a relationship, right?

‘I was afraid of being alone, of not finding someone because I’m gay, I guess.’ 

‘And now you’re here.’

‘Yeah. Me moving here was really me realising that just being me was more important than a job, and a place, and being held.’

‘I guess I ruined that whole “being by yourself” thing, huh?’ 

I chuckled, put away my mug, moved a little closer to him. ‘My goal wasn’t to be by myself.’ I took his free hand. ‘My goal was to be myself.’ I laced our fingers. ‘That’s going pretty well, actually.’ 

He blushed. ‘Yeah?’

‘Dragging you around to make my bed, carry my bookcase, buy me books? This is the best version of me.’ I laughed. 

He snorted. ‘Glad to be of your service.’

‘No, but seriously, I feel at ease. I’m not trying, I’m just being.’

Jean moved closer to me, sat down on my lap a little. ‘You know, you used to always look like you didn’t give a fuck. You were just reading.’ 

‘That’s still me.’ 

‘I’m glad.’ Jean put his forehead on mine. ‘So fucking glad no bastard could change you.’ 

I laughed. ‘No need to call people bas-’

He kissed me. He kissed me while I said the word ‘bastard’  and he was real smug about it too, smiling into the kiss. He moved further into my lap, let his hand travel over my ear. We switched between deep kisses and small pecks a few times. 

I kissed his nose, he wrinkled it. 

‘Where did all that energy come from? Coffee?’ 

‘Yes. I’m powerful now. Fight me. Let’s rumble.’ 

I laughed. ‘You asked for it.’ I got up  on my knees, threw him on his back, held him down, and then leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t struggle a second. He kissed me deeply, moaned softly. 

Only when I pulled back he mumbled. ‘That’s against the rules.’ 

‘But very effective.’

I don’t know how long we stayed on that couch just to make out, snuggle, kiss, play around. It was long enough to have me thinking in all kind of ‘forevers’ that were too young, but that felt so damn good. 

‘Y-you want to move?’ Jean mumbled softly. 

‘Huh?’

‘To the bedroom?’ 

‘Oh.. Y-yeah.’

That was our yes word. That was it. He dragged me into his bedroom, pushed me against his door and kissed me deeply. He didn’t give me a second to look at his room, and I wouldn’t have done so if he had. I could only look at him.

He pulled out his shirt. I grabbed his hip and pulled him in. Getting undressed went slowly, because of all the kisses we were giving while doing so, but we managed. 

I kissed Jean on the bed, pushed him double a little. He stared at me with hopeful eyes, stretched out to fetch a bottle of lube from his nightstand. 

‘Please..’ he whispered. 

I couldn’t say no to that. I fingered him carefully, stared at his face looking for some kind of reaction. He grabbed his pillow and held it tightly. He moaned loudly. I pushed my free hand against his mouth. He took my fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes. His moans now muffled by my hands.  

I pushed inside him slowly. He bit my fingers, tensed up and relaxed again. ‘Are you alright?’ 

‘Feels good..’ he whispered. 

‘You su-’ 

‘Fucking hell just-’ 

I pushed into him again. He gripped my arms, closed his eyes, moaned. I stared at him. Didn’t want to miss a second of this. 

‘Jean.’ 

He moved with me, fit against me. He reached out for my face and dragged me in for a kiss. I whispered sweet words to him, he just moaned in return. 

But there was one thing about it that was most amazing. Yes, the feeling was amazing, his body was amazing, the warmth was amazing, but at some point he stared into my eyes. His eyes held lust, a hopeful look, small tears, and it was beautiful. I stared right back at him. 

And while we were staring like that, Jean moaned out loudly. I didn’t let him look away. I kept staring at him, moaned too. 

‘Fuck-’ he said. 

A damn understatement. 

I pushed into him harder and harder, stared at him while he came, and that sight made me cum too. I breath out loudly, held him as tight as I could. 

‘Fuck-’ he said again, while reaching out for me. ‘Marco.’ 

‘Hmm.’ I leaned in and snuggled my nose against his. 

‘Marco.’ 

‘Yes?’ 

‘Hm-’ he moaned softly, then he kissed my lips.

 

He gave me his biggest sweater. It had gotten cold in the room. After a short nap we got out from underneath the comforter and realised this. We kept close to each other. Jean held my hand.

Jean made a fire in the fireplace, struggled doing so, and I ordered two pizzas. We were too tired to cook, didn’t want to go out for groceries anyway. 

I took the blanket and sat down next to Jean near the fireplace. ‘Are you feeling alright?’ 

He scooped closer to me, took the tips of my blanket and pushed himself against me. ‘Shut up, of course I am.’

I chuckled. ‘Of course you are.’ 

We snuggled for a while, waiting on our pizza. I kissed Jean’s hair every once in a while. When pizza delivery rang the bell Jean went down as fast as he could, saying that they always got confused about him living above the shop and sometimes left again. 

Like that we ate pizza together, laughed a lot, and drank some red wine. We were closer, and it had happened fast. We had started loving each other like there was no time in between the times we had seen each other. Like all that had happened was realising that we were the ones we felt most comfortable with. 

Eventually we laid down on the couch again, both holding our own books. I leaned my back against the couch and Jean laid his against me. I held my book in one hand and used the other one to fondle his head and hair. 

It wasn’t the easiest position to read in. 

It sure as hell was the nicest position to read in. 

‘You feel good?’ Jean asked, not looking away from his book. ‘In the _ bookstore-dreamhouse _ , I mean.’

‘With the extremely handsome bookstore owner, you mean?’ 

He chuckled and looked at me. ‘We don’t have such a thing here.’

I put my arms around him, kissed him all over his face. ‘Are you sure? Because I get the feeling you have a really nice and handsome owner here.’ 

‘I’ll have to go look for him.’

‘Shut up. You’re beautiful.’ He chuckled. ‘I like it here, a lot, Jean. It really is a  _ bookstore-dreamhouse. _ ’

Jean kissed me on my chin, turning his head as much as possible. ‘And?’ 

_ ‘A Bookstore-dreamowner _ .’

He chuckled. 

‘Dreamy bookstore prince, with  _ bookstore-dreamhouse _ . Also extremely handsome.’ 

‘Shut up!’ he laughed ‘ _ Bookreading-dreamdate _ .’ 

‘You called?’ I perked up.

‘Yeah. Kiss me, idiot.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment. 
> 
> Find me on IG: @theekom


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